


die traumgötter brachten mich in eine landschaft

by bigfrog



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Trans Male Character, this is not up to par to my usual stuff so im soz about that goodn ight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24953260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigfrog/pseuds/bigfrog
Summary: “My proposition, as bold and daring as it may be, is for you to sit on my face.” Ted spits out, a smug smile overtaking the stupid voice he’d put on.
Relationships: Ted Nivison/Cooper Schulz
Comments: 31
Kudos: 135





	die traumgötter brachten mich in eine landschaft

**Author's Note:**

  * For [manywormonstrings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manywormonstrings/gifts).



> i aint the biggest fan of ted and coops but manywormsonstrings has been very nice in the comments and they wanted them so here you go
> 
> grrrrrr this is so SHITTY sorry and im extremely dissatisfied with this so i Will Probably redo it at some point but my brain cant produce good words right now grrrrrrrrr
> 
> also im ftm trans so i have a legal licence to write trans fics (i used the word ‘cock’ in this as a substitute for the word clit bc it feels better to me rn, so if that irks you then mayb dont read)
> 
> title from i come with knives by iamx, means “the gods brought me in a dream landscape”

“Y’know what I could go for right now?”

Ted had started it. Really, all the blame could be put onto Ted for what happened between them, and Cooper is more than willing to make the man take all the responsibility.

“What could you go for right now, Ted?”

Cooper’s tired. He’s high – almost seeming exaggerated if the only other person in the room weren’t on a higher cloud than him and couldn’t point that out – and is about ready to pass out.

“I could go for some…” Ted gestures loosely, his fingers tangling together as he ponders on his words.

“Some _what_?” Cooper sighs, exasperated.

“I don’t exactly know how to say it– without sounding...weird.” Ted explains and lets his body go limp against the sofa cushions. It’s almost a blessing that they’re on the opposite sides of it with how loud Ted’s voice is getting, the consonants of his words snapped and short.

“Just fucking say it.”

“I have a proposition for you, Cooper, my boy.”

Cooper hates that voice Ted uses, at least when he’s high. It’s all regal and pronounced, as well as funny when he uses it during bits or for jokes, but it grates his eardrums and pokes at his senses in all the wrong ways.

He doesn’t say anything this time, as if entertaining the idea that Ted would _shut up_ if he simply didn’t acknowledge whatever was happening right now. But Ted is annoying and far too resilient to know when he’s attempting to be shoved into an awkward situation, so he simply keeps going.

“My proposition, as bold and daring as it may be, is for you to sit on my face.” Ted spits out, a smug smile overtaking the stupid voice he’d put on.

The ice-cold shock that hits his system at the words is practically unstoppable, leaving Cooper stiffened at the proposition. He can’t tell if it’s serious; the grin Ted is wearing tells him it’s a joke, but the silence that drags on and on the more Cooper waits speaks more volumes than Ted’s own words.

“And why would you do that?” Cooper kicks his feet up onto the sofa and throws the blanket on his lap aside. It was getting too warm with it on anyway, nothing to do with their discussion at all, he swears. “Because whatever bit you’re doing right now isn’t funny, dude.”

It’s difficult to deny that, yeah, sort of, _maybe_ it does sound sort of good to sit on someone’s face right now. More specifically Ted’s, but Cooper won’t let himself fall down that rabbit hole just yet.

Unconsciously, Cooper shuffles in his seat. He’s definitely not as drowsy now, and his fingertips are suddenly very interested in the seam of his pants when Ted clumsily moves closer.

“Why would I be doing a bit?” Ted hums lowly in a way that hits all the right spots, a striking contrast to how the previous voice made Cooper feel. “What’s there to make a joke out of wanting to eat you out, man?”

Ted must know what he’s doing right now. If the darkened pupils and fingers pulling his own away from his pants are any indication, Ted _absolutely_ knows what he’s doing to Cooper.

He’s decided to not give Ted the satisfaction of taunting him like this.

Cooper twists his hand until it fumbles on top of Ted’s own, easily encouraging the man to lean back until he settles back into the sofa. Ted has always been a lightweight of sorts when it comes getting inebriated and always ends up fucked out of his mind. Now that he’s limp and loose, Cooper can easily climb into the other man’s lap and perch himself above Ted’s own monstrous height.

“Guess you better get to it then, dude.” Cooper feels Ted sink into his seat until he’s further beneath him, an obvious action of anticipation.

The sensation of having his pants pulled at suddenly is strange, but not unwelcome, especially when the fabric gets pulled slightly taut around his knees as they’re tugged down to meet them. Ted’s hair feels feathery under his touch, soft and inviting and _very_ nice to pull on to regain the man’s attention.

Apparently, Ted isn’t going to fumble around with poor attempts at foreplay. It’s preferable that way, especially when the Pavlovian response to having hands on the lift of his hips is enough to have him wet in mere moments.

“You sure this is all good, bud?” Ted murmurs, peering up at Cooper with half-lidded, dazed eyes as if he’s something too ethereal for proper eye contact.

Cooper feels a hum of affirmation form in his throat but he never hears it. The white noise in his ears takes a backseat to let noise of his heavy beating pulse fill his senses. It feels too fast, not enough time to process any of the movements they make, but simultaneously like they’re moving at a snail’s pace with every touch leaving a lingering, invisible mark.

Taking off his own boxers, Cooper is spared the embarrassment of knowing there’s a connection of visual arousal between the fabric and between his legs. Ted makes sure there’s no room for embarrassment between them, easily urging one of Cooper’s knees up until it’s propped up on the back of the sofa and his hips hovering over his face.

There’s no spare room for hesitation either when a warm tongue licks through his arousal with a satisfied hum. Cooper ponders just how long Ted was wanting to do this tonight until he finally brought it up.

When he’s high, Cooper tends to fall back into a quiet state when he’s being touched. It’s an accidental habit where he’s too focused on the feeling and how the warmth reaches every inch inside of him. It’s quite a blessing when Ted doesn’t seem to notice his lack of verbal appreciation, instead too drawn into Cooper’s hands tugging in closer to have his mouth on him better.

It’s a good thing too that he’s reduced to only breathy, shuddering gasps right now; anybody above them or near the stairs could hear them and certainly catch on in seconds.

Absently, Cooper reaches for the other man’s glasses and makes sure they land safely onto a blanket when tossed aside. It gives him free reign to adjust himself, to push closer against Ted’s tongue until he’s grinding against his face in a desperate attempt for more friction.

Ted hums against him and eagerly pulls on Cooper’s hips, arching his neck so he can flatten his tongue against the prodding jut of Cooper’s cock. It’s the friction he’d needed, and he lets himself press Ted’s head into the sofa so he can grind downwards with a relieved breath.

“I’ve gotta be dreaming or some shit, dude.” Cooper laughs weakly, adjusting his hold on the other man’s hair. “Because your mouth is like–This shit is _heavenly_ , oh my god.” He fumbles to stay upright on one foot, his knee pressing deep into the sofa cushion.

Ted hums again and makes the move to lift Cooper off of him, something that his brain apparently disagrees with the second it starts happening when he firmly presses his hips down against Ted’s mouth.

“You said you wanted me to ride your face, right?” Cooper asks and affirms his words with a gentle rocking motion against the other man’s mouth. The faint wet smear it leaves against reddened lips is enough to make his cock pulse.

They leave it at that, and Ted’s eyes go hazy as he takes a backseat on doing anything other than testing the breach of Cooper’s hole – an easy way to make his hips stutter – and pursing his lips around his cock every forward thrust.

The sensitivity Cooper has when he’s higher than a kite is always an issue, he isn’t sure why. Heightened sensations and rampant hormones are most likely to blame, but it’s not like he takes the time out of his day to wonder about the complications of how quickly he cums when he’s high.

Ted doesn’t seem to mind when his movements pick up faster, his fingers tightening in his hair, his arousal leaving a slick mess over his mouth and chin. Instead, it’s welcomed quite encouragingly in the form of pressing fingertips into his waist and forcing his hips impossibly closer against his eager tongue.

Cooper steadies himself with one hand against the wall in front of him, and it’s a welcome coolness compared to the burning heat that’s making his palms clammy and his legs tremble.

Ted’s ebullient mouth takes to occupying itself with Cooper’s cock, warm and wet and spurred on with tiny growling hums that go straight through Cooper. It’s no surprise that he’s coming so fast when he’s become a victim to such relentless encouragement.

A mumble of Ted’s name through gritted teeth is the only thing that leaves him when he falls off the edge of an unsteady cliff, his jerking against the other man’s mouth and panting heavily when the aftershocks run through him. 

“Thanks, man.” Ted murmurs breathlessly against his thigh, leaving a smear of saliva and Cooper’s own mess against the skin. It makes Cooper grimace, and he wipes at it with his boxers when he falls back into his own seat.

“Thanks for what? I should be saying that, dude.” Cooper snorts and pulls his clothes back in, on the off chance someone _does_ wall in and catches him with his pants down.

Ted shrugs and struggles to grab the roll of paper towels on the coffee table for his face. Despite the mess on him, a pleased and satisfied smile rests on his lips that’s difficult to decipher.

But, despite his curiosity, Cooper thinks it best not to dwell on it too much. He got a free orgasm out of it, and though he offers the same for Ted, he gets denied from reciprocating. Before his doubts get the better of him, it’s obvious after a moment that Ted simply looks too exhausted to go through the same thing on his end.

Cooper lets himself think of it for a moment; he wonders how big Ted is and how much bigger he’d look in his own hands. He wonders if he’d let Cooper control it again, or maybe he’d use his mouth like Cooper had done with his. He wonders if, maybe, Ted would prefer–

Anymore thoughts that come running through the turnstile of his mind are instantly shaken away before they can wander too freely. Ted eyes him cautiously as he leans over for rolling paper, but says nothing when Cooper starts rolling another joint.

Whatever discussion that needs to be had about this, serious or otherwise, can wait until they’re both not fucked out of their minds.


End file.
